


Phantom of the future

by Jokie



Category: Metallica
Genre: Aged!James/Young!Lars, M/M, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-04-11 12:20:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19109554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jokie/pseuds/Jokie
Summary: He realized this room looked like a back stage dressing room from the 80s, it didn’t feel like 2016 at all.





	1. chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't have a beta reader this time, so bear me with my grammar and word choices.

Band:Metallica  
Ship: James/Lars

 

James had no idea how he woke up in this strange room.

By the year of 2016, this wasn’t the common situation anymore, ‘cause by this time James had been sober for almost 15 years, and a sober James is not supposed to wake up in a strange place with no idea how he got there.

James sat up from the bed and tried to fetch for his phone.

Weird.

He could’t find it anywhere, not in his pockets nowhere to be found on that bed.

He realized this room looked like a back stage dressing room from the 80s, it didn’t feel like 2016 at all.

Out of this room, he stumbled to a dirty smelly hallway with shimmering lights. People wearing tight band tees and tight pants walking by him, everybody had long hair, everybody’s so young, everybody had makeup and red lips on, everybody smelled like booze and hair spray. No way a 2016 hallway’d ever gonna smell like that. 

As he walked his way through the hallway, he saw posters and graffitis on the dirty surface of the wall. One of them had a familiar name on it, it’s a poster for a band called Raven, they’re gonna play “tonight at 9” in this bar. 

So this is a bar.

Right at the corner of the same poster, it says a band called Metallica’s gonna open for them at 8:30.

Suddenly James remembered where he was.

And most importantly, when he was.

This was most definitely not 2016.

He’s in the year of 1983, one of the most hardcore bars in bay area,San Francisco. This was the show that Lars messed up, ruined their good opportunity to impress Raven fans, humiliated James and the band. Lars messed up so James was pissed, he had kicked Lars on stage leaving him in pain and rushed off the stage to be alone with his best friend , solitude. 

He remembered Lars had been disappeared for that whole night, James had thought they would need weeks to patch things up, but Lars came back with a surprisingly good mood. He didn’t even mention the kick at all.

These should all have been the past, these should not be the present. But if this was the past, was 1983, why when he looked at himself in the mirror, he saw this old guy with clean short hair cut, kinda between grey and blonde, wearing a buttoned white shirt and black jeans, arms covered with tatts. 1983 James didn’t have tatts.

“Hey man, you’re not supposed to be here.”

Somebody tapped his shoulder and said.

“Yeah, right.”

James answered, indeed he’s not.

“The stage area is over there, through that door you’ll find it, don’t hang around the backstage area. You got it?”

James nodded.

The moment he got to the stage area he saw Lars, assembling his shitty drum set in 1983.He saw Cliff and Kirk talking, knowing nothing about the kinda future they were gonna face. He saw himself standing in the middle, telling people to buy their record Kill’em All. 

Then the show started, music played loud.

Everything looked good on stage, the audience was having a good time, and it seemed everything’s alright.

But James knew this ain’t gonna be alright, ‘cause soon Lars’ gonna mess up. And so he did, missed a beat, then another, then another, until the audience started to boo them.

He watched his young self’s face turn red, so red, he knew young James was pissed. That 30 minutes of shame finished in totally embarrassment. James still remembers that night in 1983, how he had felt Lars’ ruined everything, without considering Lars’ the reason how they got the gig in the first place. Lars arranged everything for them, yet in 1983, young James had no extra mind power to be considerate for others.

When they were trying to get off stage, he heard a yelp, and he knew what had happened. His young self kicked Lars’ in the stomach, the tiny drummer yelped in pain, the audience laughed and cheered, enjoyed the lashing out of the rockers.

James’ eyes followed Lars, who got helped by Kirk to get up, whose white Motorhead shirt got a footprint stain right in the lower middle.. Kirk tried to say something but Lars waved Kirk off, that young danish drummer looked so tired and worn out, his narrow shoulders shrunk to an even narrower form as he walked off the stage, to a direction which was opposite to where his band’s heading.

James followed up, as the danish boy walked pass the taunting crowd, walked straight outta that bar and headed to the street. His young self had never really knew what had happen to Lars that night, but this time he’s about to find out.

Whenever James remembers that night in 1983, he always thinks about that gig and that kick in Lars’ stomach. But when he actually got back through time, other feelings of this very night overwhelmed him a little. San Fransisco summer night felt good, cool wind embraced him while he's trying to catch up with his little drummer, neon lights shimmered and glowed, making this whole chasing a vivid dream. Oh and how he had missed this 80s vibe in the cyber world of 2016. This felt weirdly good, he stalked people instead of people stalking him. He’s able to walk pass them, without any one filming him with a phone, monologuing to their followers about how he got to see the singer from Metallica on the street.

So he watched Lars entered into a phone booth, James saw him dialed a number, talked to the receiver, arms waving the way he liked when he’s arguing with people. He hanged off the phone, lips mimicked a “fuck”, dialed another. 

James walked closer to the phone booth so he could pick up some of the conversation. Fortunately, Lars’ loud enough to make it easy for him.

“Hey Mick it’s Lars. Hey listen, can I come over?”

“Dude, I’m just asking for one night, I can sleep on the couch.”

“Please, I got no place to stay tonight.”

“Of course for real, no shitting. Please , hey, Mick, Mick!”

“Fuck, arghhhhh!”

Lars almost punched the receiver to the wall, that was the last two dollars he owned. There’s no way he’d get back to the hotel, he’s too pissed for that option. So now he’s fucking stuck, in this fucking phone booth, with nothing but empty pockets.

“Hey, hey sir.”

James almost freaked out when Lars talked to him for the first time.

Well, not exactly the first time, because they have talked, they always talk. But this is different, this is the Lars from the past, and just a moment ago James had considered him nothing but a phantom. But the phantom talked to him.

The phantom was still talking to him.

“Hey mister, hey!”

James cleared his throat before answering Lars.

“What?”

“Um, do you happen to have some change to spare?”

“uh..” James reached to his pocket, he did felt some bills and coins.

“Please, I just need to make few more phone calls.”

“Why don’t you just go back to your, uh, band. I saw you guys opened for Raven earlier.”

These neon lights that shift colors turned blue as James talked, then turned red as Lars answered.

“My band fucking suck.”

Then turned purple.

“Guess you knew that already if you were at the show.”

His voice cracked, James saw a trace of reflective line crept its way from the corner of Lars’ eye to the corner his lips.

“And you definitely know I suck the most.”

His words sounded almost like laughters.

“I was shit on stage, I fucked things up. Tell me, old man, did you boo me too? When you were there to see me being absolutely shite.”

James wanted to say he didn’t, but he kinda did. His was there in the crowd, seeing his young self kicking his drummer in the stomach, leaving him in physical pain and mental shame. That was worse than a booing.

“Forget it, so do you have few coins to spare?”

“Who you’re gonna call？”

“It’s none of your concern.”

“Of course it is, why the fuck you ran out like this when you knew you had no money on you. Besides it is too late for any of your drunk friends to pick up the phone for you let alone to have you stay. ”

Words came out before James had time to construct his mind, but well, he’s not intended to hide the fact that he’s James Hetfield anyway. Lars wouldn’t figure it out either, he had never seen the aged James yet.

“Who the fuck are you to tell me that?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *NSFW*
> 
> this is a real warning people!
> 
> and again no beta reader so bear with my word choices and grammar thx

———

“Who the fuck are you to tell me that?”

Lars asked.

He couldn’t say he’s James Hetfield, that’d be too weird.

“I’m a guitarist.”

That’s not a lie.

“You play too?”

Lars’ eyes lit up, the way he does when he finds people likeminded. James knew he’s too trusty when it comes to musicians. He's always like that, especially in the early years of his music life. James remembered how Lars would instantly consider anyone a friend if he or she claims to like Motörhead or Venom.

“Yeah, I’m in a band too, I know that kinda feeling.”

“Huh, your bandmate mess things up too?”

“Yeah, big time.”

“So what do you do about it, when it’s your drummer who fucks things up.”

I kick him. James thought. I insult him. I humiliate him. I spit at him. I punch him.

So he told the young drummer the truth, about how he had made his own drummer suffer in the early years, about how he had been too young to care about how his drummer must had felt.

He had expected Lars to get triggered by what he had said, but Lars didn’t say a thing for a while. He had this expression of mixed feelings that James couldn’t tell if it’s sadness or fear.

“Is he still in your band?” 

Finally Lars made a sound, looking almost terrified to find out James’ answer to his own question. And it hurt James to see this, to know how much it had scared Lars that they might ditch him. How many times he had feared that Metallica doesn’t need him, Metallica would be better without him.

Before James could answer Lars, the neon lights that kept changing colors above them went out, the owner of that shop came out and locked the gates, that’s when they noticed how late it was. 

“Listen, I need to find a hotel to crush anyway, if you need a place to stay, why don’t you come along.”

James felt he sounded like an old perv, any sane 19 year old boy would have said “hell no” and ran the hell away. 

“Really? That’d be cool, thanks!”

But obviously not Lars.

*

So somehow James’ now in a hotel room, with a 19 year old Lars sitting on the bed pressing his hands on the mattress to see if it’s the bouncing kind that he likes.

They probably should really go to bed now, James thought, after this he should seriously try to figure out how to get back to 2016 too. Maybe if he falls asleep, like in the movies, everything would go back to be normal. He’d wake up in 2016, he’d realize it had all been a dream.

But somehow he wanted this dream to last longer. He blamed his stalling on 1983, it felt too good to be ended so quickly.

“You still haven’t answer my question yet.”

“So what about your band, is the drummer still there?”

Lars brought back the question he haven’t got the chance to answer earlier. 

“Of course he is.”

“You didn’t kick him out for messing things up?”

“There were a lot of good qualities of him that I didn’t realize, and he’s way more important than what people say about him.”

James said, sat next to Lars on the bed, looking up to the ceiling.

“Like?”

“Well, first of all he started the band, had managed every gig for us in the beginning years of our career.”

“He had been so strong, through the hard times of our career, he’s the reason why we still have the band.”

James kind of hoped he could have realized everything he’s saying right now earlier, so the Lars in 1983 would suffer less.

“So no, we won’t even consider having another drummer.”

“Wow.”

Sitting next to him, Lars signed softly, like he’s impressed by how much James valued his bandmate. 

“I wish my bandmates can see me like this too, I don’t want to be a drag you know.”

He held his knees in arms, buried his face in his knees, tried to shrink himself as small as possible. But James knew the young drummer had cried, even though the latter one had tried to sound steady and smooth, his voice was still shaky with gasps.

“I just really hate to disappoint them.”

There’s no other option left for James except from holding the small shaky drummer into his arm, he couldn’t allow Lars to feel this shitty, not again. Lars looked up in his arms, wet eyes opened wide.

“I don’t need your pity, old man.”

He said, but didn’t struggle to get off from that hug. He kind of needed it, needed some physical touches that’s not painful, not mean to harm or humiliate him. He kind of needed whatever comforting this old tatted man can offer to him, as long it’s something good, something warm.

So he tilt his head up and kissed that old man, who’s bit shocked at first, but soon kissed him back. 

James kissed the 19 year old Lars back, because the 19 year old Lars kissed him first. He kissed him the way he deserved, soft and gentle, wet and full of love. He wished he had kissed Lars like this when he was 19 year old.

And that’s when he realized he’s not the 19 year old James anymore.

“Wait, kid…”

Said the 52 year old James.

“We probably shouldn’t do this.”

“Why? Is there any other reason that you have me in your hotel room?”

The dummer boy laughed, one hand reaching to James’ crotch.

“Don’t lie to me old man, you want this too.”

Young drummer’s hand stayed at James’ crotch and started to press along the outline of his hardness, almost playful, almost innocent.

“Come on,”

Lars whispered into his ear, breath hot with humidity. 

“I really want this.”

And that’s all James needed to pin that naughty brat down, that drained his last bit of sanity. He pins the boy down with one hand, the other reached to unbuckle his belt, then unbuttoned his jeans.

“You know what to do, kid.”

Lars maybe only 19 years old, but James knew he had sucked dicks. He remembered Lars had told him when they did it for the first time, when he was too nervous to have his dick sucked for the first time. Lars had comforted him that he had done this before. Lars had told him to relax and just enjoy. Lars said he’d take care of him.

That Lars who sucked his dick for the first time was in front of his eyes, about to suck his dick again. Just the thought of that could have sent James to climax if he’s not careful enough.

Lars kneeled before him, just like the image he had remembered, took his cock in his hands and into his mouth. He took it good, took it deep, James felt few teeth but it’s okay. Lars would eventually know how to suck a dick like a pro in the future, he had enjoyed a pro-cocksucker Lars already, for many years. But now he liked how Lars’ trying hard to push his dick deep into his throat, even though he’s not used to yet.

“Good boy.”

James petted the young boy’s head, grabbing his long hair to hold him still, crotch tilt forward to be deeper in him, feeling his tongue massaging every inche of his dick. He took a step back when Lars sounded like he’s about to get suffocated, and the drummer boy immediately gasped to get some oxygen for his poor lung.

But James’ not gonna let him rest yet.

“Off with your clothes, boy.”

And Lars obeyed. He kinda liked it, taking orders from a man twice his age, old enough to be his daddy. He couldn’t deny that this man is his type, that old timer rocker type of dude, with all his tatts and scars. He stripped off his shirt and spandex, being naked in front of this man for the first time. It supposed to be the first time at least, but somehow that man looked at him with a familiar look, that kind of lust reminded him of James Hetfield. But there’s also something else, something more than lust that he couldn’t figure out.

The old man stripped too, leaning closer to Lars. For a minute Lars thought the old man’s about to enter him just like that, but the expected pain didn’t arrive as he thought. The old rocker pushed his legs high, and took his dick into his mouth.

“….ah…fuck…that felt good.”

Lars had fucked few men before, that dude in Denmark who took his virginity and another dude before he met James. But none of them had done this for him, so if he wanted to be treated with patience he’d go for girls instead of dudes. But this one’s different. That old man treated him like he matters too, like he deserved to be taken care of too, and he liked it almost too much.

It’s not a hard task for James to take all of Lars’ cock in, but saliva still dripped off from his mouth. So he took some with his fingers, pushed one into Lars’ while he kept sucking him.

“Ahh..”

Lars cried out as the first finger enter him, it still stung a bit, but the warm mouth around his dick kept sending pleasure to soothe the pain. Moans implied something other than pain escaped from his mouth when James pushed another in, hands gripped the old man’s hair hard. Everything this man did to him was new and good, and it’s so hard to not to be overwhelmed by all of these.

“Stop, stop, I’m gonna…”

“It’s okay, shhh, it’s okay just let it happen.”

James kissed his inner thighs as his baby boy came, hand stroking his dick hard to send him further into his climax. Lars came so hard he swear he saw stars, he had never had this kind of orgasm at all. But shit, did he came too early? Would the old man got mad?

“Sorry, I couldn’t hold it…”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, baby boy."

He felt James pushing some of his cum into his hole, which got softer because of his orgasm.

“This is what I have intended, for you to feel good.”

James smiled, pushing more of his fingers into Lars, it got easier with cum as lube and Lars being more relaxed. Lars quietly let James open him up, feeling the arousal slowly building up. Obviously the old man knew what he’s doing, and soon he got the second erection of Lars as the evidence.

“I’m about to fuck you now, can you take it?”

Lars looked down and see the old man’s cock and nodded.

If he had the strength to talk, he probably would have said something like “please fuck me” or even yelled “daddy”, but when James finally pushed his thickness into his well prepared hole he just made some fucked-up noised that couldn’t be constructed into English or Danish words. That moment it happened Lars felt like he couldn’t construct any coherent thought in his mind anymore. All he could think about was it’s so good, ‘cause every thrust the old man gave to him hit the right spot. And he liked it, liked every second of the pounding, the grunting the old man made, the way he’s lifting up his skinny legs with his strong tatted arms, the way he called his name.

“Lars, fuck, Lars ….you feel so good.”

His fucked up mind couldn’t care less about why this man he had met for the first time knew his name at all. All he could do was making incoherent noises while trying to hold onto the older man’s shoulder, until he lost his last strength to even do that.

“Come here.”

So James helped Lars to get more comfortable, lying on his stomach with ass in the air. He pushed himself into Lars for the second time, that boy took him in easily this time. From his angle James could see Lars’ narrow hips all well cupped in his big hands, it’s almost weird to see Lars with smooth skin and long hair and his tattooed arms in the same frame, but it’s also very very hot. So hot James couldn’t resist pulling Lars’ hair with one of his tattooed arms, making this whole image even more real.

“Yes!”

Lars cried out, body shaking with too much pleasure being sent to his brain. He felt he’s about to come again, and he wanted to have daddy’s permission this time. He wanted to be good, like it’s what he supposed to do, cause daddy’s treating him too well.

“I wanna come daddy, can I come daddy?”

He’s really trying hard to not to come.

“Please, please ,PLEASE, daddy, I can’t, I really can’t .”

James hold him close by the waist until he felt Lars’ back’s pressed against his chest.

“Just a minute, I want to come with you.”

Lars felt he’s already crying for not being allowed to come, but he still tried to listen, to be good. James’ thrusts became really fast and harsh, it’s driving him crazy. Every passing second became the ultimate pleasure and torture.

“NOW, come baby.”

Fuck.

The world no longer exist.

The only thing connected him with the reality was James and James’ cock, which is currently filling him with warm cum.

And it all went black.


End file.
